Sara | Sara Garland

A Year In Review: This’ll Be Easy

I thought I’d start out 2019 with a blog post just to get all of the “firsts” out of the way. I don’t really have anything of substance to say—with the year being so new and all—but that really doesn’t make me much different than the millions of other internet dwellers who seem to have no qualms about sharing a whole lot of nothing online. Et cetera, lorem ipsum, so on, and so forth.

So, I’m guessing you’re reading this because you’re a) really bored, b) you’re one of my two fans, c) you’re already avoiding a poorly-constructed New Year’s resolution, or d) you clicked the wrong link somewhere on the way to Albuquerque.

Whatever the case may be, welcome! Don’t expect too much, and tell your friends.

How about a “Year In Review” segment to get things started? It should be really easy to put together today. Easier than it will be on December 31, right? Why not stay ahead of things?

Here goes.

2019 Year In Review:

January 1: It was a lazy morning, and after a modest breakfast, I drifted aimlessly to the sofa to watch the Tournament of Roses parade, drooling and wondering how long it took to glue all those little flowers and flower seeds to the floats. Then I told myself I was glad I didn’t have to do that job since I had much better things to do, as I stretched out and yawned repeatedly in my disheveled state, wiping coffee from the corner of my mouth. I then prepared a modest lunch of ham and black-eyed peas, and while I wasn’t convinced it would actually make me healthy, wealthy, and wise for the upcoming year, I decided it couldn’t hurt. I considered wearing something other than pajamas for the first day of the year, but, my goodness, they’re just so comfy.

I’m telling you, if the rest of the year keeps up like this, not only will writing my annual yearly year-end review be really easy, but it’ll also be the most comfortable year of my existence.

Don’t forget to tell your friends all about the nothing they can read here throughout 2019.

happy new year christmas movies GIF

A Yearly Year-End Annual Review: Things I Did In 2018

Okay, let’s try to keep this short and sweet, because it’s about to be 2019 and I will have things to do in 2019.

This is a summary, so forgive me if I leave out a few details. Currently, a full transcript of Things I Did In 2018 is unavailable. (2018 isn’t completely over yet anyway. Duh.)

Things I Did In 2018:

I stopped automatically writing 2017 on all paperwork, documents, and checks sometime around my birthday. In February.
I moved east of the Mississippi River. I began to understand and appreciate the value of playing Tetris for hours at a time during my formative years once I had to downsize. (Come over sometime and take a look at my closets. I tried not to hum Russian music faster and faster as the piles of boxes climbed up the walls when I was unpacking.)
This is the river. I live somewhere to the right of it. And, yes, I sell prints of this photo here.
I took more photos. That’s what photographers do.
I wrote more stuff. That’s what writers do.
I wrote lists. That’s what really meticulous people do.
I left grocery stores with a lot more than what was originally on those lists. That’s what hungry shoppers will do.
I decided not to make any resolutions for 2019. That’s mainly for self-esteem purposes, because it’s a little bit demoralizing to find yourself cancelling a gym membership on January 3.
I didn’t win the lottery, but I don’t know anyone who did, so that’s not really a big deal.
I stopped watching as much television. I don’t really feel any smarter, but I don’t feel as though I’ve missed out on much, either.

I probably left out a few things, like what I had for breakfast on April 12 or how long I waited on my last oil change, but I’m working on brevity in my writing since we live in a 140-characters-or-less kind of world these days.

Happy New Year!

An Observation: Anxiety and Pillow Tags

Question time!

When you tear the tag off a pillow, does it scream? Do alarms and sirens go off in the Center for Pillow Tag Safety or something?

When I was a kid, popular culture (and urban myth) taught me that tearing the tag off of a pillow or mattress was an offense worthy of the torture chamber (or at least a hefty fine and jail time). No one bothered to tell me that it was safe to rip it off once I ACTUALLY BOUGHT THE ITEM, though, so I left a lot of tags on a lot of pillows over the years.

I know I’m the consumer. But, still. Does it make anyone else nervous to think about removing the tag?

Well, a while back, I dug a pillow out of a closet to display in my living room. The tag was still attached, and a decades-old shudder of anxiety ran through my body as I realized that displaying it with the tag still attached would be ugly. I read the tag very carefully, looking for any alarm sensors or tracking devices in the process, mentally preparing myself to remove it.

I am the consumer. I legally purchased this reindeer pillow. Wait a minute…nope, no, I didn’t. It was a gift. Did they purchase it from a reputable, law-abiding vendor? I know the tag says “Walmart,” but anyone could print that in their parents’ basement. Can I actually bring myself to do this? Better make sure there’s not a security camera on this thing…

Gripping the pillow in my left hand and cradling the delicate tag in my right, I walked over to the desk in my bedroom, reaching for my pair of blue-handled scissors.

Here goes nothing.

Snip.

AAHHHHHHHH! The tag! I cut it off the pillow! I’m such a rebel!!!!

It turned out to be a surprisingly anti-climactic moment. I mean, the smoke detector didn’t even go off. No one called from the Pentagon. My neighbors didn’t even complain.

And, for the time being, I have a cute pillow sitting in my living room without an itchy, ugly tag.

I’ll still probably sweat a little bit every time someone knocks on my door…

An Observation: Just Don’t Steal It

Every time I read a news story in which someone has stolen a patrol car, I am immediately struck with one thought…

“Gee, do you REALLY THINK YOU’RE GONNA GET AWAY WITH THAT ONE?!?”

Fire trucks, ambulances, and–yes–police cars are among the MOST IDENTIFIABLE VEHICLES on the road. I’m not talking about the undercover, unmarked vehicles (obviously). The marked cars are designed to stand out.

When you were a kid, did you ever have the idea that it would be exciting to ride in one of those modes of transportation because of their innate ability to blend in? Gosh, no! You’d have been sitting next to the driver, feet dangling over the edge of your seat, yelling, “Turn on the lights! Do the siren!”

(siren blaring) car vehicle motor vehicle mode of transport — Whee! I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t notice this on the highway at all! (Riiiiiight…)

You think–just perhaps, maybe, possibly–that if you steal a police car, the police might just notice that? You shouldn’t steal anything, but…my, goodness.

It’s not like taking a few cookies from the jar on top of the refrigerator when Mom isn’t looking. It’s more like wearing a clown costume to the symphony.

Just don’t do it, okay? Consider this a public service announcement and go watch television or something. (I hear “Cops” is still a popular show.)

An Observation: Happy Hours

Oh, you thought this post was about something else. Sorry to disappoint. I am going to discuss hours, though. Waking hours, sleeping hours…the levels of functionality at different hours in the day. You might be bored by this. But, you’re here, so you might as well pass the time by reading. Who knows? Maybe it’ll help you sleep.

I have a window of about three to four hours a day that I feel like I’m operating at totally full capacity. (I think most people feel this way, too, regardless of the caffeine content of your coffee.) So, in my typical overthinking fashion, I’ve decided to break down a normal day so that I can figure out during which hours I function at peak functionality and try to replicate them at other times of the day…time. (Umm, that was a little redundantly redundant. Sorry.)

Image result for clock meme

Let’s take the morning hours to start, because that’s when most people start their day. It’s when I start mine. I’m sure you can relate. I usually set my alarm for 6:15, which means my paranoid “is-the-alarm-going-to-work” internal clock wakes me up at 5:00 and every five minutes thereafter. (By the way, anytime someone tells me that 5:00 a.m. is their finest hour, I’m inclined to run away. The last time 5:00 a.m. was my finest hour was when I wanted to get a head start on Saturday morning cartoons.)

By 6:30, I’m beginning to prioritize which corners to cut on my morning beauty-ish regimen. Knowing that I will regret skipping eyeliner by 10:00, it always takes priority, alongside concealer, which was invented for the express purpose of making a 6:15 wake-up-call appear effortless.

7:00 means breakfast, or something that will pass for breakfast. Whatever takes the least amount of effort. I’m very good at cooking drive-thru, which I pick up thirty minutes later.

By 9:30, I’ve begun to make progress in the field of alertness. Between 7:40 and 9:30 I’ve been functional—and courteous—but not necessarily overly chipper.

10:00 is good. 10:00 works well. If I could harness 10:00 all day, I’d be good. 10:00 to around 2:00 are usually my height of chipper-ness. Lunch helps (hey, we can always use recharging) and, if it’s a sunny day, it’s the mostest, bestest, sunniest time of day.

I do think, though, that the entire universe can relate to the 2:00 slump. If mid-afternoon could be represented by an animal, it would be the sloth.

sloth eating GIF — I don’t actually do that at 2:00. I mean…vegetables? I save those for the day or two I’m on a health kick.

Studies have confirmed that these mid-afternoon lulls are commonplace. If those studies would really help us figure out what to do about them (besides taking a power nap—really, who has time for that?), that’d be peachy.

I usually get my second wind around 3:30, although it’s more like a light breeze. Don’t get me wrong—I AM FUNCTIONAL—I just feel very…oh, what’s the word…blah. By the time evening rolls around, I’m ready to hibernate (especially in winter, my least favorite season), thus lowering the possibility for productivity on home projects, socialization, food preparation, or even changing the channel from whatever I left it on the night before.

raul julia watching tv GIF — Home shopping? Okay, I’ll stare at that for a while.

I still, however, usually force myself to take on more stuff, crawling under the covers around 10:00 and kicking myself for not going to bed an hour earlier from time to time.

Maybe I should put a positive spin on this: I’m really good at functioning while tired. To be fair, I think most of us are. After all, we over-schedule, over-extend, over-exert, and overdo almost everything. So, perhaps getting that 10:00 to 2:00 feeling can be achieved by some simple restructuring.

In fact, let me consult my calendar to see what can be done.

Let’s see. The hours from 10:00 to 2:00 look good for…everything.

An Observation: Levels of Southern Winter Precipitation

Please take a moment to review these standard units of measurement for winter precipitation in the South with your family before submitting reports to neighbors, relatives, and friends. Expert advice for each situation is listed.

Snowing:

1 to 15 snow flurries per hour
Temperatures hovering around 32-33 degrees
Call your local television station. Things just got serious.

Snowing Hard:

50-100 snowflakes per hour
Sticks to grass for a maximum duration of thirty seconds
Take no less than twenty photos and one video for Instagram. Demand that local schools close early.

Blizzard:

A dusting/up to one inch of accumulation
Bigger snowflakes, but still able to be individually counted with reasonable ease
Stay home. Your off-road, heavy-duty, four-wheel-drive pickup truck is useless.

Whiteout/Apocalypse:

Accumulation in excess of one inch
Snowflakes too numerous to count
Call Northern relatives for survival advice, if your phone still works.

Sleeting:

1 to 15 ice pellets per hour
Sound against windows resembles bacon frying in small skillet
Put glass outside to collect ice. Sonic will be closed soon.

Heavy Sleet:

Melted residue on car windshield (see also: cold water)
Sound against windows interferes with normal conversation
Advise your family that it could be worse. It could be freezing rain.

Freezing Rain:

Shiny glaze on all elevated objects
Power outages, broken tree limbs, all brick-and-mortar establishments closed
Give up and set yourself on fire for warmth—you’re in this one for the long haul.

A Thought: No-Overshare November

I decided, in solidarity with my fellow…umm, fellows, that I would participate in No-Shave November this year. Well, we’re well into the month, and I’m pleased to report that there are no results whatsoever.

Nope, nothing. Not even a little stubble.

While I am grateful for my inability to grow facial hair, I would like to do something for November. November is like the middle child at the kids’ table these days. People pass it over as a bump in the calendar between Halloween and Christmas.

We do have a major holiday this month, folks. A holiday feared by many a turkey down on the farm. As much as Americans love to do two things—gossip and eat—you’d think that Thanksgiving would get more respect. Alas, it’s become a day to scarf down a big meal…after which the men fall asleep after watching football and the women get a jump-start on Black Friday at 3:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving Thursday.

Friday Shoppers GIF — I stand corrected. I see a few men.

I’m proposing No-Share November…or, more specifically, No-Overshare November.

You see, I’ve been on a reduced social media diet lately, and I’ve quite enjoyed it. I don’t have to snap photos of breakfast to prove that it once existed or come up with the perfect selfie to prove that I had one good hair day out of the past three decades (give or take).

Brene Brown wrote, “Vulnerability is about sharing our feelings and our experiences with people who have earned the right to hear them.” I think it’s a good thing to limit some of the things we choose to share with the world, since very little is sacred anymore. I have a pretty big list of Facebook friends, but I don’t necessarily want to share my innermost thoughts and feelings with ALL of them. They wouldn’t be innermost anymore if I did, anyway.

The irony is that I wouldn’t mind at all if you shared this post. (Click the button. Click it. Go on. You can do it.) I just think everyone could benefit from stepping away from the screens for a few extra minutes to take in the WORLD without having to prove that you were somehow “better” than the next person.

Just some food (for thought) for this little upcoming November holiday. You know, the one that’s (turkey) sandwiched between two other biggies. It deserves its (just) desserts.

An Adventure: Moving Experiences

This is going to be a very, VERY quick post to let you know that a) I haven’t dropped off the map, and b) the reason I haven’t posted lately is because I couldn’t find half of my stuff or take time to surf the internets because I just MOVED!

I suppose I should have used boxing gloves. Get it? HA! I crack myself up…

Yep, plenty of things have gone wrong so far, but I found some of the important stuff–toilet paper and the cable outlets. (That sounded weird. Have I mentioned sleep deprivation as a side effect of moving?)

So, stay tuned for future updates as I unbox more stuff that I need to have in order to function. (Where in the world are my paper towels? Oh, right. Bedroom closet. Next to the electric bug zapper. Right where they should be. Yikes…)

An Observation: Nature Walkin’

It’s easy to take natural beauty for granted. As a photographer, however, I am always looking for a unique angle. Most of my photography comes from Arkansas, and The Natural State truly lives up to its nickname. The choices in a single setting are just as varied as the state’s geography itself. What kind of story do I want to tell with the picture? How can I frame this differently? Am I missing something?

Speaking of “missing something”…we go nature walkin’ ’round these here parts. The “g” on the end of the traditional pronunciation of “walking” is unnecessary in Arkansas. I guess it’s in the spirit of the pronunciation of the state name itself. You know…you drop the last letter when you say “Arkansas.” However, don’t you DARE try to spell it without the “s.” When it happens, it’s not pretty.

Batesville, Arkansas is a very picturesque community. The historic homes downtown are postcard-perfect in many ways. The churches are equally as fascinating.

Oh, and I did mention nature, so I suppose I should show you some nature. Batesville is situated along the White River–an excellent photography location for all of you shutterbugs out there.

Nice September day along the White River at Batesville, Arkansas.

Looking towards the bridge along the White River at Batesville, Arkansas.

Guess what?!? It’s also possible to find natural beauty in an urban setting, and a quick trip across the state line to Tennessee can offer up some great opportunities. The clouds in these photographs created some great backdrops for photography along the Mississippi River in Memphis, Tennessee.

Isolated storms, the bridge, a barge, and the Mississippi River. If you turn to your right from this vantage point, you’re looking directly into downtown Memphis.

Towering clouds over the Bass Pro Shops at the Pyramid in Memphis, Tennessee.

Of course, if you’re interested in really getting close to nature (in a controlled-ish sense), you should give a drive-thru safari a try. Yes, you can pay to let animals stick their tongues out at you as you cruise at a steady five miles-per-hour. But, the photography is fun…as long as the animals don’t try to eat your camera. I caught up with this rather tall giraffe in Alamo, Tennessee at the Tennessee Safari Park.

Oh, you makin’ fun of me? Well…you’re too tall. So haha. Enjoy getting rained on before anyone else does.

I suppose the drive-thru safari is more like nature drivin’, to be specific. Where are some of your favorite nature photography locations? Leave a comment!

A Question: How Am I Not Bald?!?

I have lots of hair. I have to have lots of hair. Otherwise, I would be completely bald by now. In fact, I’m having a hard time figuring out how I’ve not been completely bald from a very young age.

One trip around the house with my vacuum cleaner and I collect enough hair to assemble a small fur-bearing mammal.

scared tim burton GIF — Oh, wow. You’re…cute.

I suppose that’s normal for someone who’s getting–shudder–older. I still have plenty of it attached to my head, though. Very thick. Always has been. Hairdressers usually give up trying to completely dry it before I leave the salon after a trim.

When I was young, I’d listen to the comments from my mom about how much I shed, but my hair was still really, really long and thick. I wouldn’t mind having that hair back again, because it still held some socially acceptable styles and a little bit (entire can) of hair spray usually took care of any issues.

Yes, I’d like to place an order for my thirteen-year-old-self’s hair, please.

I’d like my flexibility back as well, please. (But not that couch. No, no. That’s where Herb Tarlek’s sport coats went to die.)

I don’t dare say I’d like to be my old self again, though.

Think about it.

It’s just another expression I question.

Why would anyone want to be their old selves? For starters…

a) I think that when people say that, sometimes they mean their “younger” selves, because–let’s face it–you probably wouldn’t really, literally want to be your “old self,” unless you’re five years old and haven’t a clue about the mystical wonders of adulthood that await (see also: bills, responsibilities, opening hard-to-open jars by yourself), and…

b) I’d like to think that being restored to factory settings isn’t always the best thing. Maybe there’s an upgrade, and you’re still in the beta testing phase. Perhaps you’d rather be a newer version of yourself…Sara 3.0, or something. You know, work out the bugs.

Anyway, back to the hair…

I recently read an article that said that the haircut I’ve worn for the majority of my life is actually in style for the time being. Perhaps I should clarify…the way my hair wears me has come back into style, because I sure know I can’t make it adapt to trends these days. So, I have to wait around for decades at a time for it to become part of the in-crowd.

Seeing as how I pick up so much of it everywhere, I guess I should be glad I still have it at all.